Thursday, February 27, 2020

Our Story BEFORE The Story ~ Charlie Harrigan ~ Cold Eggs, Hot Coffee, Warm Heart ~ Story in Heartland Treasures Anthology

Hi. My name’s Charlie Harrigan. After I came home from Vietnam, I wandered the country for a while, doing short-term odd jobs and seeing things that weren’t jungle. Eventually, I drifted back to Boston, where my Uncle Charlie lived.

Yeah, I’m named for him. He was a good, steady guy, and he offered me a job at his diner. The people who owned the place before my uncle, called it The Domino. He said the name was stupid, but never took steps to change it.

I’ve inherited the business, had the front window painted with the much more sensible name Charlie’s Diner, and built a reputation on good food, excellent coffee, and service you won’t find at any chain fast-food place these days.

Ask any of my regulars. Most of them I see every day of the year. One, Doc Dennis, I’ve known since he began med school. Now he treats kids for cancer. A guy like him could get his breakfasts anywhere, but he still comes here, to my Charlie’s Diner. What’ll ya have this morning?

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Excuse me for yawning. I’m Dennis Flannigan, but most of the people in my life call me Doc Dennis. Can we walk and talk? I’m late. When the alarm went off this morning, I’d been dreaming about some complex surgery I’m supposed to perform today. It was not a nightmare. God’s been good that way. Then, at the most awkward moment, I had to interrupt my morning routine to answer a call about one of my other patients, Kerry.

He’s older than my little brother Timmy was when he died of Leukemia. I was twelve, and Timmy was three. It’s pretty accurate to say his death destroyed my family. My parents’ prayers got more rare, and bitter. I vowed never to have that happen to anybody else. God, bless the kids on the ward.

You want to hear more? Well, I’m heading to Charlie’s Diner to pick up my breakfast order. You haven’t been there? It’s across the street, a block ahead. Man, it’s snowing hard. Do you see any traffic? I think I’ll cut over right here….

AHHH…God, Bless…AHH….Bless the kids…Bless the kids on the ward.

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Our Story Title:   Cold Eggs, Hot Coffee, Warm Heart
                                (Heartland Treasures Anthology)

My Story Genre:  Contemporary Fiction

My Story Released: February 27, 2020
                                      (TODAY)

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The Author of Our  Story:   Heidi Kortman

When a two-year-old on her mother’s lap points to a newspaper page and says, “Look, Mom, that says Kroger,” it’s a good bet that words, reading, and books will be a huge part of her life.
Heidi Kortman discovered early in her writing career that there’s not much market for song lyrics about housework. She then moved on to other forms of poetry, and sarcastic descriptive essays. These days, she’s an aspiring novelist.

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WHERE can the book be purchased?

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Heidi will be giving away one autographed copy of Heartland Treasures to someone who leaves a comment ~with their contact information ~ about which breakfast items they would order at Charlie’s Diner.

DRAWING TO BE HELD WEDNESDAY EVENING ~ March 4, 2019.

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Thursday, February 20, 2020

Our Story BEFORE The Story ~ Kate Isaacs & Addie Bledsoe ~ IN TIMES LIKE THESE

I’m Kate Isaacs, Addie Bledsoe’s best friend—we became best friends the moment we met in elementary school. Addie’s the main character in this novel, but I’m sharing this conversation we had about a year before this story begins.
Why? Because Addie is so embroiled in her own home front challenges with her husband, she can’t be objective about her situation. Still, because she’s so honest and shares from her heart, you won’t have any trouble detecting her viewpoint.
So, here’s how our little talk went.
“Oh, Kate, you know I love Harold and try to please him, but . . . something I say always gets him riled up and I end up . . . Like the other day, we were on the way home from church and Harold brought up draft board, since one of the members is also on the church council.”
“Really? That must be hard for Harold,”
“You can say that again—it’s enough to threaten his Sunday smile. Nobody wants to go to war more than he does. He was so disappointed he didn’t get to go when Joe did. ”
“Yes . . . they were always so close.”
“He got a postcard the other day. Sounds like the Navy’s sending Joe to someplace in the Pacific. I sure hope we can stay out of the war.”
“Me, too. What a nice guy Joe is. And you . . . you have so much more patience than I do. You know about my run-ins with Harold in the past.”
“But don’t you believe we should do everything in our power to make our husbands happy?”
“Sure. It’s just that I think our husbands should make at least the same effort we do. Anyway, I know you give it your best effort.”
Addie bit her lip and grew quiet.
“You’ve always given more than one-hundred per-cent in everything.”
“I want to help Harold in the worst way. He’s so miserable! But no matter how I try, he says I don’t comprehend his meaning.”
“Nobody can say you don’t try—that must count for something.”
“You’d think so, but sometimes I wonder.”
“Yet you never even think of quitting—you’re true to your vows.”
“Of course, just like you. I promised to love, honor and cherish Harold. That means listening to him, keeping the house clean and caring for the chickens and garden—helping out however I can.”
“Must be frustrating to feel you never please him.”
“That’s for sure.” Addie’s sigh came from a deep place. “He’s got a heavy load, all the responsibility of this farm, and his dad is so sick.”
“That would be rough, especially when our President places such stress on farming for the war effort. But you help with that, too—your victory garden . . .”
“Yes . . . it’s growing like crazy. And my chickens. See that old coffee can up on the shelf? That’s the money the egg man pays me once a week.”
“You’re making a difference, Mrs. M always said you would—remember she used to say you’d go far?”
“Maybe . . . But . . .” A faraway look fills Abby’s eyes as I wait for her to go on.
“I just wish I could be the kind of wife Harold deserves.”
The earnestness of her dark eyes, framed by her beautiful chestnut curls, tells me she’s worthy of the best life can offer. I don’t know how I’d ever have made it through our school years if she hadn’t moved to town.
I know these things take time, but Addie’s always so hard on herself. I’m glad that even though we’re so far apart, we can still write letters. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do!

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Our Story Title:   In Times Like These
Our Story Genre:  Women's Historical Fiction

Our Story Re-releases:   February 20, 2020
                                       (TODAY, READERS)

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The Author of My Story:    Gail Kittleson 
An Iowa farm girl (baby boomer), Gail Kittleson appeared with her thick glasses at the local library counter every Saturday of her childhood and hauled home a new pile of books. Later, she earned her MA in TESOL and taught English as a Second Language and college expository writing.

Over a ten-year period during her husband Lance’s deployments to the Middle East, Gail’s memoir developed, and another is presently with a publisher.

Since the World War II bug bit, she’s never been quite the same. Her Women of the Heartland fiction brings to life this challenging era’s make-do women, whom she loves to introduce to new readers.

Gail delights in historical research, grandchildren, gardening in Northern Iowa, and Arizona’s Mogollon Rim in winter. Facilitating workshops fulfills her teaching craving, and she also cheers other writers on through free-lance editing.

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